I don’t consider their interest a compliment, because most of them never wanted to know the real me (Picture: Almara Abgarian)
A few weeks ago, Eric*, an ex-lover I haven’t seen or spoken to in almost a decade, got back in touch.
He opened his message by asking how I was but I knew exactly where it would lead: With him asking if I was single, and if I’d be up for having sex.
Minutes later, I was proven right.
I’d like to say I was surprised but this isn’t the first time a man from my past has done this – and it irritates me every time.
During lockdown, Jonathan*, someone I dated in my twenties (and had very strong feelings for) dropped me a DM on social media to see if I wanted to meet up.
He’d clearly forgotten the part where he’d played the hot-and-cold game with my emotions.
There wasn’t a dating phrase for it back then, but let’s call it a ‘situationship’.
He’s now in a committed relationship and admitted to having created a new account on Instagram purely so he could message under the guise of asking for a drink, and not-so-subtly mentioning that he still thinks back to us having sex.
I was furious and disgusted.
Not long before that, a third man, George*, randomly asked on Facebook if I wanted to come over because he ‘loves my blowjobs’ – despite us not talking for a very long time.
What a dreamy offer, huh?
Before I delve further into my own experiences, I want to make something clear: sex is not the problem.
I’m a vocal advocate for pleasure in all its glorious forms, whether it’s via f***buddies or long-term partners, so long as both parties know what the deal is and don’t string each other along.
Common decency, kindness and respect should be a given – but these men offered me neither.
I’m not saying you can’t slide into an ex’s DMs, but doing so after years of no contact, purely to open with some version of ‘hey, you up?’. No, thanks.
Telling me I’m a ‘great shag’ when you treated me like s**t in the past is not a compliment. It’s disrespectful.
Take Jonathan, for instance.
Our relationship was always on his terms. We didn’t just sleep together – we talked, constantly. But he would refuse any real intimacy in person.
Sure, the sex was mind-blowing, I’ll give him that much. But while he may think back on that, I think back on things like how on an ‘official’ date he showed up drunk and I ate the meal I’d cooked for us by myself.
I was hurt and angry, and soon after that I met my then-boyfriend and stopped talking to Jonathan altogether.
When he recently reached out again, I was left with mixed emotions, anger being the most prevalent one.
Frankly, I’m baffled that these men have saved my phone number for so long (Picture: Getty Images/iStockphoto)
Oddly, it wasn’t an instant fury, more like a slow brew as I realised he was once again doing whatever made him feel good, rather than thinking about my (or his girlfriend’s) emotions.
I’d had enough.
I explained that I had no interest in getting involved with a coupled-up man. I also described how he’d made me feel when we dated, saying that I didn’t deserve that treatment then and I didn’t deserve it now.
Pressing ‘send’ on that email was cathartic and empowering. I might not have been strong enough to tell him off when I was younger – we live and learn – but I’m a different woman now.
Jonathan replied, apologising and offering a paltry explanation before wishing me well. I haven’t heard from him since.
Meanwhile George kept incessantly messaging me for sex, even though I made it clear I wasn’t interested. To add insult to injury, he would intermittently ask how I was or say ‘sorry’ – but then always go back to the sex chat, thinking it was somehow cute or clever.
I told him off, unfriended him on social media and we don’t speak anymore.
Eric and I surprisingly ended our conversation on good terms. He had been more of a fling, so him reaching out didn’t feel as offensive. Though I did tell him that he’d made me feel ‘cheap’ and he admitted to not having behaved very well, and also apologised.
What infuriates me about hearing from ex-partners (there have been others) isn’t necessarily the contact itself.
It’s how they do it and what they say. It’s the fact that they think saying ‘you were great in bed’ or ‘I’ve always loved your tits’ flatters my ego or turns me on. It doesn’t.
Frankly, I’m baffled that these men have saved my phone number for so long, as if I’m somehow at their beck and call.
I don’t consider their interest a compliment, because most of them never wanted to know the real me.
On the topic of f***boys who won’t leave you alone, I’ve heard similar anecdotes from many women who frequently receive messages from old dates or hook-ups looking for ‘a night of fun’, and people who blew them off or ghosted them, only to reappear months or years later.
For some, myself included, this kind of contact can dredge up painful memories.
So if you’re going to send a message to someone you used to date or sleep with – especially for sex – here’s a few things to consider first. And this goes for all genders, I’m not here to man-bash.
Be honest with yourself about how you treated the other person, what kind of relationship you had, how it ended and, most importantly, how this contact might affect them.
Context matters. If you’re contacting a former sexual or romantic partner because you’ve got feelings for them and want to try again, that’s a whole different kettle of fish compared to dropping a DM out of the blue, just because you’re feeling horny.
Similarly, if you’ve always had a sex-only relationship and you were both OK with it, then it might very well be appropriate to dive straight into the sex chat – after a polite hello, of course.
Just be respectful. It’s not that hard.
On a positive and personal note, while it’s not exactly been pleasant, hearing from some former flames has allowed me to get things off my chest.
And you’d be surprised how nice it is to tell someone off.
Demanding respect for myself feels so much better than any orgasm they could give me ever will.
*Names and some details have been changed
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Frankly, I’m baffled that these men have saved my phone number for so long, as if I’m somehow at their beck and call.
